A New Dawn Arises
by JadeHeart
Summary: The struggle to clear the shadows of the past and find a purpose for a new beginning.
1. Chapter 1

Title: A New Dawn Arises

Author: JadeHeart

Located/Archived: If anyone would like it, please ask me first

Fandom: Knight Hunters: Weis Kreuz

Rating: T

Timeline: Picks up immediately from the ending of Knight Hunters: Eternity.

Warnings: violence

Authors Note: I've only seen the second series, Knight Hunters: Eternity, so I am unfamiliar with the previous events unless they were referred to in this series. This story was just prompted because I found the ending of the series especially completely heartbreaking.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters in this, they belong to the creators, nor am I making any profits from this story.

Chapter 1

"Hey, are you all right?"

The quiet voice reached Aya's ears. He opened his eyes, raising his head a fraction with difficulty to meet the intense blue ones of the young man leaning over him.

"You…ji?" His lips tried to form the name.

No, he thought as the features swam before him, blurring. No, it wasn't Youji. Youji was gone - long gone. He wouldn't be here. It was just wishful thinking on his part, a yearning for the past.

No, Youji wasn't here. He was alone. Like always. He would die here - alone. A fitting end, he thought, a deserveded punishment for his many crimes.

He let his eyes close again as the darkness swept over his mind, dragging him down into its depths. He gave himself up to the pull, letting it take him. Perhaps now he might find peace. Finally.

Youji didn't know why he had stopped. He had been hurrying on his way home through the snow. He had intended to cook tonight for Asuka after she had finished for the day, something that he enjoyed doing when he was able to. It wasn't often that he could so this was the first opportunity for some time for him to extend his culinary skills once more and impress his wife.

When the opportunity had arisen for Asuka to come to this city for further special training in her field, it had been too good an opportunity to pass up. They had discussed it extensively and finally agreed that she would accept the position. She had moved here on her own two weeks before, moving into a small apartment that had been provided by the hospital, whilst he had been forced to remain where he was until he could arrange some time off. They had spoken on the phone for hours each night during that forced separation, the first in their little over one year marriage.

Youji had found it surprisingly difficult during that time, waking each night with nightmares that he couldn't remember, but were enough to send him jerking from sleep in a cold sweat. All he could remember of them was the overwhelming feeling of despair and pain that continued to claw at the back of his mind for a few moments after waking until they mercifully began to fade. He didn't know anything more about then, but they frightened him.

It had been with great relief when he had been able to leave and join Asuka here for a two week break. He wasn't looking forward to having to return alone. Asuka would still have more than another two months before she was finished. He was hoping that he would be able to convince his superiors to allow him to take an extended break, even without pay if need be, just to avoid having to remain on his own for all that time. At least he would be able to be with Asuka, whilst he was with her the nightmares seemed to be held at bay.

He had been hurrying down the street, moving past the other pedestrians, feeling the gentle snow flakes drifting down onto his head. He looked up and watched them for a moment, before dropping his gaze once more to ensure he didn't lose his footing. The way the temperature was dropping it would no doubt be freezing tonight, with a heavy snowfall. That would make it difficult for Asuka to get to work tomorrow.

As he continued on his way, he stepped around a person in front of him and had seen the figure huddled near the post box by the side of the kerb. He had barely given it a passing glance, thinking it was no more than one of the few homeless people that you would sometimes see. He felt sorry for anyone that would have to be out in the weather that was coming, but what could you do?

He hadn't planned to do anything, thinking to simply continue on his way home. But as he drew even with the person he had found his steps slowing until he had stopped. He turned, wondering what he thought he was doing. He guessed he just pitied the person, probably some old man who had no where to go. Perhaps he could give him a little money so at least he could get something hot to drink and eat.

Leaning over the huddled figure he spoke softly, not wishing to startle the person, or seem that he was imposing his company on them. They might not appreciate his intervention if they had a lot of pride.

"Hey, are you all right?" he asked, wondering if he would receive any answer at all to his question.

The man's head rose slightly, his deep dark eyes looking up and meeting Youji's; eyes filled with pain and emptiness, before they slipped closed again and he slumped forward against the post box.

Youji had been surprised. It wasn't an old face as he had been expecting. This man was quite young still, although there were lines on that youthful skin that made him think of many years of pain and worry. He grew more puzzled by this turn of events. Just what was this man doing here?

He knelt down by the man's side, reaching out a hand to the shoulder, starting a little as the body slid sideways a little. It was then that Youji noticed the knife, and the spreading red stain on the man's shirt below his coat. He felt no shock at the sight, viewing it almost clinically.

The poor bastard had probably been a victim of a mugging, he thought, pulling his cell phone out. He dialed the number of the hospital Asuka was working at knowing it was not far from here. He didn't bother trying to call her cell and speak to her directly. If she was working she wouldn't be answering it anyway and it wasn't like she could do anything different to what he was doing right now.

He requested the ambulance, providing details of their exact location and the fact that they would be dealing with a knife wound, then had hung up. He knew enough not to try and remove the weapon. Firstly, whilst the wound was still bleeding certainly, the blood would be coagulating around the blade helping to seal the wound from further blood loss. Removing it without proper medical assistance would likely result in the victim rapidly bleeding to death.

Secondly, removing the knife could cause extreme damage internally. He had no idea how long the blade was or how far it had penetrated into the body. He had no way of knowing if it had severed any veins or arteries, punctured the kidneys or other organs in the thrust that had embedded it up to the hilt. Pulling the blade back out, the slightest twist could lacerate any other tissues on its reverse passage.

Youji didn't know how he knew all this, but he did. It was one of the things that made it easy for him to talk to Asuka about her work. He seemed to know something about wounds and medical treatment, which had made them wonder if at one time he had had medical training. It was just another part of his missing past.

He knelt closer to the side of the crumpled figure, reaching out a hand to touch the angular face. The skin was cold to his touch, the blood loss and shock to his body was beginning to take its toll. At this rate the man was just as likely to freeze to death or go into cardiac arrest from the strain on his body. Youji opened his coat and moved to kneel behind the man, pulling him carefully back against his own body, wrapping his coat around the both of them. They probably looked, to the casual observer, like lovers embracing. Admittedly it could look quite romantic with the snow softly falling still. His hand reached out and cupped the side of the upturned face, snow flecking the radiant redness of the hair, the skin still cold under his touch. He didn't seem to be getting any warmer.

He rested his cheek on the top of the head, feeling the silky hair touch his skin. It smelt clean and fresh. Obviously this was no homeless man, or if he was he certainly had enough funds or means to be able to keep himself in good condition.

He glanced down at the pale face, slightly tilted back. Long lashes rested on the cheeks, hiding those dark eyes he had briefly glimpsed before. Those eyes that had silently reached out to him, drawing him closer, pleading for …something.

It was an attractive face; long and angular, with high cheek bones. The short red hair was unusual in its colour, judging from the Oriental appearance of the features and it didn't look to be dyed either. However, in today's world of mixed marriages it wasn't entirely strange. In all, the shade seemed to suit the man. For some reason, Youji couldn't picture those features framed in any other colour except that vibrant red.

He saw some of the glances thrown their way by passer-bys, knew what they were thinking as they hurried on their way. He ignored them, simply drawing the other closer into his embrace, protecting him from the elements as best he could. He didn't care what anyone else thought because for some reason this felt…right.

He lifted his head quickly as the faint sound of a siren reached his ears. Ah, the ambulance was here. He looked down at this silent partner. Now he might have a chance. If they weren't too late.

He didn't relinquish his hold on the other until the paramedics were kneeling by thier side, only them moving out the way as they quickly assessed the damage, laying the stretcher down and maneuvering the limp form into it. They returned it to a slightly upright position to relieve some of the strain on the abdomen muscles that may have been damaged, as they lifted it into the ambulance.

Nothing was said as Youji quickly entered after them, although he wasn't sure why he felt compelled to do so. Surely he had done all he could and all that was expected of him. He was nothing more than a stranger passing by, a good Samaritan if you like. He had no further obligations here, and certainly no-one would expect anything more from him.

Yet, here he was. Seated opposite, out of the way, watching silently as the medic bagged the other man, monitoring the life signs as they cut away the material from the wound to assess it better. He heard them radioing the information through to the hospital, providing the details as asked for, the silent blasting out as they sped through the snow slick streets.

Youji watched carefully as the prone man laboured for each breath, the rise and fall of the chest uneven. He sat there, knees splayed, elbows resting on thighs, hands hanging between his legs casually, just watching, unable to take his eyes from that wane face. Why had he come? He didn't owe this man anything more. He had done his duty by calling the ambulance and that is where it should have ended. There was nothing more he could do now, it was completely out of his hands. It was now up to the man himself if he would live - or die.

He looked down at his feet, thinking. So why had he felt that he had to go with him? Why had his heart hurt to see the pain in those eyes?

He suddenly froze in place, remembering the one whispered word the man had said before lapsing into unconsciousness.

Youji slowly raised his head to look at the recumbent figure. Had he really said his name? Why? Why would he have said his name? Did he know him?

Since he had awoken in hospital more than a year ago he knew nothing more of himself. The only thing he had remembered had been his name – Youji, that was all. Whether it was his first or last name, even that he didn't know. He and Asuka had tried to find out more but he wasn't listed as any missing person. There was no-one matching his description through various criminal database either. Even running a check on his one and only name revealed nothing; from credit ratings, loans, or employment records. It seemed as though he had never existed.

He hadn't been completely concerned. In fact, in some ways he had felt great relief at this complete anonymity that he seemed to have acquired. As he had said to Asuka at the time, he could start his life anew with a completely clean slate. How could that be a bad thing?

He even had very little to go on how he had arrived at the hospital in which he had awoken. He had been told that he had been carried there by a man; his clothing in tatters, bloodied and battered. There had been no ID on him, nothing to say who he was. His saviour had only given his name. The only things to link him to his past were two items that had survived his horrific encounter, what ever that had been. Two items, plus his body. His body had eventually survived - however his memories had been lost.

Could this man know him from before then, he wondered. No, he must have been mistaken. The man hadn't said his name at all. It had been no more than a mistake. Even if he had said his name, it didn't mean that he actually knew him. The man could have been speaking about someone else entirely.

They had finally arrived at the emergency entrance, and the stretcher was dragged out quickly and pushed rapidly through the swinging doors at a run. Youji followed after a little more slowly, watching the trolley disappear behind the first curtained cubicle.

"Youji!" He turned at the cry to see Asuka hurrying towards him, concern on her face. He opened his arms and embraced her tightly. "What happened? I got your message." He had taken the time to call her briefly to say he was on the way to the hospital and what had occurred.

"He's in there now," He nodded his head towards the drawn curtains.

She followed his look. "I'll try and find out what I can. Do you know who he is?"

He shook his head. "I didn't look for any ID. I just called the ambulance straight away."

She smiled fondly at him. "You probably saved his life with your quick actions." she said warmly.

He shrugged, "I don't know about that. We don't know yet if he will even live. It did look pretty serious."

"Wait here and I'll see what I can find out." She disappeared behind the curtain and after about five minutes reappeared, hurrying over to him with a frown on her pretty face. "It is quite serious, but the doctors are fairly confident he'll make it. He's got no ID so they don't know who to call. He's got money in his wallet so he's not homeless and his clothes are quite well made also." She continued to frown. "I hope there's no-one waiting for him at home somewhere. I wish people would make certain to carry some form of identification. It's so rare these days for people not to, but it does still happen at times. It's just so worrying when you have no way of finding out most times and being able to contact someone for them."

Youji glanced back to the curtains and couldn't help but wonder. Was that man like him? A man without a past? It seemed so similar to how he himself had arrived at hospital, almost uncanny in its similarity.

He turned to Asuka. "I was going to cook tonight but this has kind of thrown those plans out. Why don't we just go out for dinner after your shift?"

She smiled, "That would be lovely!" She glanced at her watch and frowned. "But I've still got an hour and a half to go."

"That's okay," he assured her. "I'll just wait here for you. There's no point going home now, only to come back later. I'll get a paper and read for a bit."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I'm sure," he confirmed.

She smiled and gave him another quick hug and peck on the cheek. "If I can get off early I'll try to." she said, racing away with a wave.

"Not a problem," he called out after her disappearing figure.

He went and bought a paper and a couple of magazines as well as a coffee, before returning to the waiting room and settling down. It really wouldn't have been much point to go home. It's not because he wanted to see if the man behind those curtains would be all right.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: A New Dawn Arises

Author: JadeHeart

Located/Archived: and If anyone else would like it, please ask me first

Fandom: Knight Hunters/Weiss Kreuz

Rating: T

Timeline: Picks up immediately from the ending of Knight Hunters: Eternity.

Warnings: violence

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters in this, they belong to the creators, nor am I making any profits from this story.

Chapter 2

The darkness receded from his mind, surprising him in its absence. He had given himself up to it willingly enough, yet it seemed it did not desire to take him yet. He felt almost sad to have been rejected so.

His thoughts raced for a moment as recent memories bubbled back to the surface. Cold – it had been cold. Snow – falling around him, his breath steaming in the air. He had been walking, just thinking.

He remembered the impact of the small body running hard up against his. The sudden stabbing pain through his stomach as he looked down to see the hilt of the knife embedded there, then the flush of warmth as his blood seeped forth around the blade, warm against his cold flesh.

He remembered trying to continue on his way, blindly stumbling along, not even thinking about where he was going or why, just knowing that he had to keep moving. To stop was to die – he knew that. Finally he could go no further, reaching out a hand to try and steady himself, supporting his weakening body until his knees gave way beneath him. He remembered that sudden surge of longing he had felt, like nothing he had ever felt before in all his years. A yearning for his friends; for his four lost comrades and the others who had fallen by the wayside, either lost or dead. There were too many ghosts but he had so wanted at least those four to be with him at that moment.

Ken, Omi, Youji…., he had thought as his eyes had closed, feeling the coldness of the snowflakes on his cheeks. He wished he could have seen them once more.

He remembered the cold creeping through his body, stealing the warmth from his very soul like a thief in the night. Or an assassin, he had softly thought, feeling his control over his body slip further away. So, he thought, this is truly the end. He had felt sad, and yet, he had finally felt at peace also. It had been a hard battle this life he had led; every day had meant facing another challenge, another fight, another nightmare. Another sin to be placed on his soul that he could never atone for.

However, he also then felt a desire to live, for one reason alone. To see his friends. He had never stopped thinking of them, they had never been forgotten. He truly wanted to know that they were alive and well, that they had succeeded in making something of their lives, unlike him. He wanted to believe they were finally happy. Even if it was his destiny to burn in the deepest fires of hell, he would gladly face that alone if he knew they were all right. That he didn't know made him the saddest of all.

He knew that he was dying. He could not be responsible for dishing out death for all this time to not know intimately the signs of impending death. Admittedly he was not overly familiar with this slow insidious creeping demise, he was much more adept at the swift strike and clean kill. Yet, he recognized it all the same. He was dying. What a place to die, he thought absently, no longer able to feel his body in any way, only the coldness that encompassed him. Here on the street, in a strange town, without anyone to know he was gone. Although no doubt the sister at the orphanage would wonder where he had gone but he had been very careful to tell her nothing of himself or where he could be found. She would have no way of finding out what had happened to him. That was probably for the best.

Time seemed to tick by so slowly. If was dying it seemed that it should be happening quicker. He didn't want to see his life flash before his eyes. There were too many horrors there, too many regrets, too many losses and he had no desire to live them all over again. Once had been more than enough. A face swam before his eyes, a face from the past, a face full of caring - a face that he remembered so well. Another part of the past, his past. Then it was gone, swallowed by the darkness that stole his sight. That must have been nothing more than a dream, he thought, brought on by blood loss and shock. That would have been the only reason he had suddenly thought he had seen Youji standing there before him.

Youji, he thought, drifting on the waves of darkness that swept him along. Youji…

After that last battle with Esset, he remembered going back into the blackened ruins of the destroyed Temple. The flames were still burning fiercely in more than one place, the heat strong enough to melt the metal girders like plastic, molten liquid dripping downwards in a deadly rain. Everywhere he looked there was complete destruction, rubble piled high and reaching up towards the night sky.

Ken and Persia had left on the helicopter as soon as they had exited, disappearing into the night before the authorities had arrived, like ghosts in the night. He knew perfectly well that to the rest of the world this disaster would forever remain a mystery. Few would truly know what had occurred, and many of them were now dead.

He had refused to leave, despite Omi's insistent demands. Instead he had returned to that burning inferno to keep a promise - his promise to get Youji out as the Temple had crumbled around their ears, sending them fleeing for safety. Only Youji hadn't been able to escape with them. He was still in there – somewhere.

Aya had had no way of knowing if he had still been alive in there amongst all that destruction. The silent look that Omi had given him had said that he hadn't thought that Youji had survived, but Aya still had to go and find out for certain. He had promised after all.

Even through all the chaos Aya had known where he had wanted to go – directly to the lab where last he had seen Youji. He had felt the heat scorching his face as he struggled on his way, refusing to be baulked by the debris in his way, the leather of his gloves at least protecting his hands in part from the extreme heat but were rapidly cracking and flaking away from the stress of touching almost molten metal constantly which they weren't designed to cope with. Still he had kept on going.

The lab area was just as badly damaged as the rest of the place. The upper level had given way when the roof had come down, filling the lower area with debris. He gazed over the piled concrete and twisted girders, looking towards the corner where he had last seen his friend. All was still, only the crackle of flames, the groaning of stressed metal, and the faint clatter of falling rubble broke the silence.

Carefully he began to clamber downwards over the collapsed masonry, slipping on the unsteady footing. He knew he didn't have a lot of time. If Youji was still here and alive, he might not remain that way for much longer if he wasn't found soon. He began his meticulous search, looking in all areas to find anything, something.

Then, against all hope, he had actually found him. In many ways Aya truly hadn't expected that he would. He was a realist, he didn't believe in miracles or happily ever after. He believed in the cold hard facts that life was cruel and unfair, and justice was bought through the blood of others. He had returned only to fulfill his promise, and if he had then found Youji dead, he would at least have known that he hadn't ignored that promise and abandoned his friend.

Yet he had actually found Youji.

Aya stood there amongst the rubble, flames and smoke, gazing down on the bloodied and battered body at his feet. He could see the faint rise and fall of the chest with each unsteady breath taken. Broken bones jutted through skin from various limbs, burnt cloth clung in tatters from the long body, skin was blackened and blistered from severe burns. A deep head wound bathed the golden curls on the head in red until it looked to be the same colour as Aya's own. The intense blue eyes were hidden behind closed lids, grime turning the face grey like a death mask.

Aya leant down, kicking away the still smoldering fragments that pinned the body where it lay, the burning material still inflicting further harm until it was removed. He knelt and slipped his arms under his friend, lifting him, hearing the moans of pain unconsciously escaping the crushed figure in his arms. It was then he noticed what was gripped in one outstretched hand. The hilt of his sword was clasped in one bloodied hand, fingers wrapped tightly around it. He pulled it closer and tried to pry the weapon away from that grip but to no avail.

It didn't matter, he thought, looking at the flames flickering on the dark brown stained blade. He never wanted to wield it again. Let Youji keep it.

He had left then, carrying his friend as best he could, sometimes unavoidably causing further pain as he was forced to sling him over his shoulder to free up his hands to try and clamber over and through the ruins. He finally made his way to open air, escaping the building's remains, and easily avoided the gathering crowd of people who inevitable arrived at such scenes.

He had taken Youji to the nearest large hospital that he knew of, driving at high speeds in a stolen car, keeping one eye fixed to the rear view mirror to see if he was attracting unwanted attention from any roving police in the night. The drive remained uneventful and he reached his destination but a short time later.

He had carried Youji inside, cradling the tall man in his arms like a child, feeling as though he weighed nothing. As soon as he entered the Emergency area, he had been surrounded by a bustling crowd of nurses and doctors who all descended on them. He had laid Youji down on a bed as he was instructed, stepping back and answering the question of his name, giving it to them, and then leaving unseen as soon as he was released from his burden. There had been no point staying. Either Youji would live - or he would die. Nothing more - nothing less. Nothing Aya did could change that.

So he had left then, slipping back into the night and leaving Youji in the hands of the professionals. It was now up to them to help him. Aya had done all he could. He had kept his promise.

He hadn't tried to keep in touch with Youji, never once returning or contacting the hospital to check on how he was doing, or even if he had survived that dreadful night. He saw no point in making such an effort to follow up on him. Youji had seemed to have decided to live as himself, with all the bad memories and pain that may be there as well. But if he had changed his mind whilst lying there bleeding to death in that destruction, then nothing Aya did would make him live. Aya didn't need to see someone else die and he was better off not knowing, keeping his illusions to himself. If Youji was alive, the further Aya stayed away from him, the better. He could only bring sorrow to him, as a constant reminder of his past.

So he would leave his friend alone.

The darkness faded away and light seemed to penetrate his eye lids, irritating his eyes.

Aya frowned, feeling his body once more, sensing his limbs lying heavily in the bed. He was back, or so it seemed.

He cracked his eyes open carefully, his mind still fuzzy, his thoughts still centred on the past and struggling to make sense of what his vision was seeing before him at this moment. Where was he? His eyes tracked across the ceiling – white, completely white. Like snow, he thought, though not as beautiful.

His eyes dropped closed again and the darkness crowded in, only this time it seemed like a warm soothing blanket drawing around him and chasing away the harshness of the light. A deep healing darkness that promised oblivion of a different sort, if only for a short time.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: A New Dawn Arises

Author: JadeHeart

Located/Archived: and If anyone else would like it, please ask me first

Fandom: Knight Hunters/Weiss Kreuz

Rating: T

Timeline: Picks up immediately from the ending of Knight Hunters: Eternity.

Warnings: violence

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters in this, they belong to the creators, nor am I making any profits from this story.

Chapter 3

He drifted upwards through the darkness within his mind, like being pulled by a gentle yet steady current. His open eyes were once again greeted by a blank unbroken white ceiling. He could hear the soft beeps in the room, could feel the trail of tubes running from his hands, the astringent smell of antiseptics. His whole body felt leaden, heavier than he had ever known it, as though weighed down by so much more than just the physical. Where was he, he wondered. Obviously a hospital. How had he come to be here?

He felt a pang of regret. It looked like he might live after all. A single tear slipped from the corner of one eye, sliding past his temple to disappear into his hair on the pillow beneath. Life was just too hard, was the next self-pitying thought as another tear followed the first. Hadn't he done enough, hadn't he suffered enough? Obviously not. Obviously it was not enough to atone for all that he had done, and done voluntarily, even willingly. He was not yet forgiven for his sins.

Heaviness dragged at his eyelids forcing them closed, shutting out the light once more. He slid back down in the comforting blackness, following the flow to where ever it led, moving back through his memories.

He had returned to the Temple immediately after taking Youji to the hospital. He didn't quite know why he had. Part was to return the stolen vehicle to its rightful place, the owner ignorant of its brief foray that night. His only reason for entering that blazing hell initially had been to search for Youji so he wondered why, as he stood for a second time amongst the destruction, was he back?

It was easy enough to avoid the emergency services that had now gathered to battle the flames and keep the casual observer at bay. More would no doubt be on the way; this was no small conflagration but would definitely be classified as a towering inferno. Some portions of the Temple still stretched upwards towards the stars in the night sky, like the blackened and twisted fingers of a decaying corpse. They were precariously balanced between stability and collapse, and at any moment they could come crashing to the earth below.

A soft distant 'whump' sound drifted to him on the night air - another explosion from somewhere deep in the bowels. With all the chemicals used in the secret labyrinth of the Temple's innards there would no doubt continue to be further detonations, adding their volatile mixtures to the already burning flames and creating toxic fumes to send the fire crews choking back. That would keep them very busy, and wary. Which meant it was the perfect time for Aya to go back in

He slipped in from the same direction that he had escaped from previously, the way that avoided any contact with the area where the crews were gathered. He still didn't know why he was here. Did he just want to be absolutely sure that this time Esset and Epitaph were well and truly gone, completely destroyed with no hope of returning? A part of him half expected them to resurrect themselves amongst this hellish landscape. It was like a picture from a nightmare, and the only thing missing were the demons. Although he carried enough of his own anyway so maybe they counted instead.

He struggled through the wreckage, sometimes unable to proceed in the direction that he had begun due to the way being impassable, but always moving onwards. Driven onwards by …something. He passed the area where he had discovered Youji, past the remnants of the top floor and some twisted mechanical remains of Epitaph. Still he went on.

He found himself drawn to a far corner of a partially collapsed room by a persistent high ringing sound. There he found a lift, the doors jammed open by some fallen metal framework. He could see the lights still flashing on the controls and frowned. Surely there couldn't still be power running, not after all of this. He levered the blockage away and sure enough the doors slid shut automatically, the ringing alarm ceasing.

He pressed the control pad and the doors opened smoothly once more. He surveyed the interior, lit eerily with the green emergency lights, making the walls appear gangrenous. Nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say, and he stepped forward cautiously. The floor held under his feet and, taking a deep breath, he pressed the down button, watching the doors close firmly before him. There was no going back now.

The lift gave a small lurch as it began its descent slowly but steadily, then picking up speed. The over head numbers stopped at Level 1 and weren't showing anything further although he was definitely still dropping. Suddenly the lift jerked to a halt, hard enough to throw him off balance and cause him to stumble, catching himself against the wall. What now, he wondered.

He heard the whirring sound of mechanisms grinding futilely and another lurch. Not good, he thought looking around him. He pressed the emergency stop button and the sounds ceased. He then pressed the open door button but it refused to oblige this time. Pulling a knife out, he slipped it under the panel, levering it away easily and exposing the wires beneath. Quickly he found the ones he was seeking, bypassed the controls, and this time the doors began to slowly grind open.

He found himself looking at a grey wall, though raising his eyes higher he could see the edge of a floor halfway up. He had obviously stopped between levels. He moved forward and reached up with his long arms and managed to hook his fingers over the edge. Ensuring he had a good purchase, he took a deep breath to focus his concentration and began to lever himself up, taking all his weight on his fingers latched over the rim. The muscles in his arms screamed at the pressure and the pain but he ignored them, blocking it out. This was not something he did often, and certainly not by choice, but he could do it, although for days afterwards he would be in pain. He refused to allow any additional body movement, not so much as a quiver of an eyelid, to distract him from his slow progress.

As his head, then shoulders, came level with the floor he tensed his muscles and threw himself forward, managing to get his elbows up which provided far greater purchase to continue to drag the rest of his body forward. When the last of his long length was clear he lay there for a moment on his back, breathing heavily, feeling his muscles begin to shake from the extreme exertion.

He felt the floor lurch under him as another distant explosion rocked the foundations. A screeching sound filled the air as the lift he had just vacated tilted, then there was the loud snap of cables parting and Aya watched as it plummeted down into the darkness. He stared silently at the now empty space before him. It was a good thing he got out when he did.

Getting to his knees and then his feet, swaying a little, he walked over to peer downwards to see where the lift had fallen to. He could see the twisted metal only just below, obviously having landed in the shaft cavity at the bottom. That meant that this would have been the last stop for it.

He looked down the passage he was standing in. This portion of the building was reasonably unscathed but he could still feel the heat of fires, the sting of smoke in his eyes, and acrid smell of smoldering plastics and other items, so he knew it hadn't completely escaped untouched. He looked over his shoulder in the opposite direction. The corridor ended only about four feet that way so that only left one way for him to go. With a last glance at the empty elevator shaft he set off down the corridor. He would have to find another way out as it was, so he had no choice but to go forward.

It wasn't long before he rounded a corner and came face to face fully with the ongoing destruction of the Temple, even here in its bowels, with smoldering wreckage piled high. As he had walked, he had picked up a piece of metal piping of about three foot in length. Using this he was able to lever the debris aside to help clear a path so he could continue.

There were few rooms branching off from the main corridor; in all he had only come across three so far. He came to what seemed to be the last room with the blank wall signifying the end of that passage. He had passed no intersecting corridors so this was it.

He frowned at the end wall. It seemed strange that this area appeared so small and so insignificant yet there was an unmarked elevator that took you down to this level. He slowly turned around and placed his shoulder against the half buckled door next to him and pushed. It grudgingly gave way beneath the steady pressure he was applying until there was enough room for him to squeeze his thin body through the opening and into the room beyond.

Like the others, fallen rubble from the level above littered the floor, but unlike the others he could see in the far corner what looked to be another lift, not much larger than a dumbwaiter. He clambered over the rubble to reach it and looked it over. It wasn't run electronically which was a surprising in itself in this state of the art, cutting edge technology that the Temple possessed and implemented.

He raised the door, watching the lower half slide down at the same time. He left it open whilst he searched around, finally finding what he sought. With difficulty he rolled the boulder he had located over to the dumbwaiter, feeling the sweat on his brow from his exertions. He was hot, sweaty, dirty, muscles aching, clothes torn and bloody but he didn't think of stopping. For some reason, stopping was not an option. It was like he had to keep going, no matter what, to where ever he was going to. For some reason it felt like he was being….called.

With a final heave he rolled his rock inside the dumbwaiter. It dipped a little but nothing more alarming. Hmm, he thought, it would appear that it may have been designed for heavier weights after all, including people perhaps. He moved forward and set his back against the wall and using his feet for leverage, pushed the boulder back into the room leaving himself in the dumbwaiter alone. He reached forward and pulled the door down, the bottom rising to complete the seal.

Looking at the controls he saw they appeared to work on a simple pulley system or counterweight principle. There was a lever to release the hold and that was it. When you wanted to stop you pushed the lever back into place. Let's see where this goes, he thought, reaching out to grasp the red handled lever and felt the lift release and begin to move down.

It didn't go far, unlike his first journey. This time it was very, very short and he imagine he had only gone perhaps the equivalent of another two levels, perhaps not even that. The winch began to grind as it slowed the descent before lurching to an abrupt halt. Aya pushed the lever into the locked position and opened the doors. A blast of heat struck his face but there were no flames, they were obviously burning somewhere else.

He found himself in a narrow passage, poorly lit only by small thin florescent tubes along the side of the passage that flickered in and out, some already dark. Even without this there would have been little light here. Curious, he thought as he headed off, following the lights. Even here the devastation had reached, though not as extensively as in other places but that would come with time as the stresses became too great on the structure and foundations. He was still forced to squeeze past almost complete blockages, leaving, more than once, a scrap of cloth from his clothes behind him. After one such blockage that had destroyed the lights in that section also he walked in darkness for about six feet before rounding a bend and finding himself in a dimly lit circular room.

He stood for a moment in shock, for before him was another lab albeit what appeared to be a fairly simple one compared to the others the Temple had boasted but it was a clone lab none the less. And in the center were two capsules, half reclining. Not more, he thought wearily. How many more of such labs would be found in the depths of this place? Could they be certain that they were all destroyed?

He walked forward, stepping over the multitude of cables that littered the floor, connected for the most part to the capsules and to what ever power source they had once had. He looked down through the broken glass frontage of the first pod he reached, seeing a feminine face and a cloud of golden hair framing the features. She would have been beautiful, and was only young from the looks. His stomach churned a little as he took in the fact that half the face had burnt away, obviously not from fire but the evidence of a still dripping tube that rested against that destruction indicated that some sort of chemical had done such damage. He checked the read outs for the casket and noted that all power had been cut to the capsule and the readouts were a garbled mess. Obviously it had malfunction due to the power disturbances. This one appeared to have still been in the process of being created and not yet completed. Presumably what lights the room was still running were on an emergency back up generator that did not include the more power hungry capsules that would have well exceeded its capabilities. There was nothing more to be done here for this dead creature. It would be completely destroyed once he left; and he could do a little something to ensure that destruction definitely occurred.

He moved across to the second casket, his eyes flicking over the controls and monitors. Surprisingly this one was still working. Not from an outside power source but from a small internal power battery. That sort of power would only enable the capsule to be in stasis, which would mean this clone had been completed fully, having reached the required growth.

Aya crouched down to read the dials more carefully. A light was flashing half way down the readout indicating that it was awaiting a download. So that was all that was required, he thought. The final data dump of what ever memories and thoughts and personality that Epitaph had decided it wanted them to have. This clone was like a blank slate just waiting to be written on and with a push of that button it could be done. I wonder who they were trying to reproduce, he thought, standing up again with a sigh. It doesn't matter now. He would make certain that couldn't happen.

He stepped closer and glanced down, noting the glass panel was slight fogged due to the damp surrounds and the heat from the fires above. Absently he reached out and wiped it clear, and completely froze.

The pounding of his heart filled his ears, he had lost the ability to move completely. This wasn't happening. It was a dream - no, a nightmare. For looking up at him through the glass was Sena.

He swallowed audibly, trying to breath past the lump that had formed in his throat. It was Sena, there was no mistaking it. Every detail was exactly the same. Why, why was Sena being cloned? What was he doing here!

Aya could feel his hands shaking; in fact his whole body was shaking in shock. This was all too much for him, too many emotional overloads during this horrible time. He saw again in his mind running into the room upstairs, seeing Sena standing there, frozen in place as he found himself face to face with his mother once more, unable to move even as she raised a gun and fired. Aya could remember the feeling of his heart tearing apart at the sound of that shot, seeing Sena's young body fall backwards, collapsing like a puppet that had its strings cut. He had run to him, gathering him into his arms, hoping that he would find him only wounded and able to be cared for, hoping for a miracle. But miracles don't exist, just as he had always known they didn't, and Sena had died there in his arms, his blood on his hands.

He could hear himself breathing quickly, almost panting as his mind reeled, trying to piece things together. Why would Sena be here, in this place? What purpose did Epitaph have in trying to recreate him? He glanced over at the destroyed carcass in the other capsule. He could see a facial resemblance between that thing and Sena. He looked back at the boy. Could that have been….his sister?

Aya's thoughts continued to race, though now they were at least beginning to have a little more coherence. Look at the facts that are before you, he told himself, forcing himself to calm. We have Sena being cloned, and certainly what looks like could be his sister. Aya had never seen a photo of Sena's actual sister so couldn't tell if this was an exact replica but there was certainly a family resemblance there. So why would Epitaph want to clone these two children? It just made no sense.

No sense if it was just Epitaph, no - but another thought now came to Aya.

Could it be that even when controlled by Epitaph that Sena's mother had mourned the loss of her family, of her children? Had she tried to make amends for what she had done and, in the twisted confines of Epitaph's control, found this to be the only way to try and atone for killing her own children, using all the knowledge and skills Epitaph controlled and had recreated her children once more? That made more sense, in a macabre way.

Had Epitaph been aware of this, he wondered. He couldn't believe that it couldn't have been, yet why would it have allowed this project to have even begun and so nearly reached completion? Could it have been that some of Sena's mother's memories, those latent emotions that remained buried deep inside, could they have been contaminating Epitah itself? Could the line that linked Sena's mother to Epitaph, and tied her frail and weak humanity to that cold and calculating machine, could that link have run both ways? Could the control Epitaph had wielded over the woman opened itself to being swayed by such simple emotions as a mother's love for her children?

He looked at the casket. Who can tell? They will never know now. Epitaph was destroyed and Sena's mother was dead, as was Sena. He reached out a hand, hovering over the button that would completely sever the power feed from the battery and wipe the data that was stored there. At the same time it would release a bio-agent that would quickly degrade the physical form until it would be no more than a liquid slush on the bottom of the pod, broken down into its basic elemental constituents.

His hand hesitated, halted in its motion as an image of Sena came to him, as the boy had tried to talk himself into being stronger, in being harder, believing himself to be so weak and thus failing. Failing because he was human - all too human. He had been young, wanting to know the truth, searching for justice and revenge. And when confronted with the real horrifying truth, he acted just as a human being, and as a son – and could not kill his mother, even though he knew that he would die.

Aya regretted that Sena never knew that his mother had managed to break free from Epitaph's control for that moment. That she had become the mother he had once known and loved - and that she still loved him. Sena hadn't learnt that before he had died.

Aya's hand trembled, still inches from the controls.

Senna had been such an innocent, so young and naïve in many ways, so full of wanting to do what was right against all the odds. In many ways he had been just like Kyo. Perhaps that is what had drawn those two together, not just that Sena had reminded Kyo of his dead younger brother, but they had such similar beliefs and hopes, and needs and wants. Perhaps that is why, of them all, those two were the ones to die. They couldn't throw away those feelings and emotions that bound them to other people. They continued to reach out to others and not as a game or pretending to do so, but sincerely and honestly. They still had hope. Perhaps they had always been destined to die because of that. Their souls were not yet stained with the blood of many, and even when their hands were bloodied, they never lost their humanity.

Sena's young face rose up before him, as did Kyo's. Kyo was gone, gone for all time and could not be brought back, could not be saved. He was with his younger brother now in that dreamless landscape of death, and hopefully they could both be at peace now. He could do nothing more for Kyo except lay the pieces of Epitaph and Esset at his grave as evidence that justice had been served, that they had succeeded and this vengeance had been gained. That was all he could do for Kyo, but Sena…

The face below him showed clearly through the glass. A single drop of condensation slid down the visage as though it were a tear and it grabbed Aya's heart. His hand clenched into a fist, trying to still the violent trembling. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't do it!

He knew the risks. He didn't know what would come out of this makeshift coffin. It could be his Sena reborn, resurrected; or the birth of a demon monster. Did he have the right to take the risk of loosing such a thing on the world? Another Toto perhaps, one of those god-like beings? What if this time they could not defeat it? They had barely done so this last time and Weiss was hardly in a position to do so now.

His hand opened and dropped another centimeter closer to the button before halting again. But what if, a small whisper said to him in the back of his mind, what if it is Sena? He could do nothing more for Kyo but could he make reparation to Sena for failing him? For not realising that the youth would not be able to kill the mother of his dreams, and nightmares? That he wouldn't be able to kill her because he did not have an answer, an answer to why it had all happened the way that it had. Until that question has been answered Sena would not have been able to act, and that inability to act had cost him his life. For the second time Sena had had to look at death at the hands of his mother, and this time it had been successful. Aya had known that. He had known it only too well and yet, even knowing, he had not prevented it.

He should have made certain that it had not been Sena there at the end. How he didn't know, but he felt responsible for it. Perhaps if he had just been a little quicker, a little faster, done something to distract Sena and broken the frozen tableau the shocked boy had been caught in. Perhaps he could have distracted Sena's mother somehow so the shot had gone wide. Something - anything. No matter how he looked at it, it was his fault.

His hand's downward motion slowed again, and this time completely drew back. He couldn't do it. He couldn't condemn Sena to death, not for a third time. He had to at least try, and this time he really had to try and do what was right; right for Sena - not Weiss or anyone else. He had to see if he could make amends and give Sena back his life so he could live it out fully as he deserved. He could help Sena as he could not help Kyo. Sena would be his redemption.

He turned away and quickly detached the useless connections, keeping an eye on the back up generator that continued to show a steady green light. He found the controls on the opposite side panel and it took only a moment to determine how they worked. Pressing the relevant buttons he detached the casket from its semi upright bracket and maneuvered it till it was lying flat. The whir of the hydraulics hissed in the silence around him. Another few adjustments had it powering along on the wheels embedded in the base that had previously been hidden from view. He guided it out of the room and down the passage, walking at its side with one hand resting lightly on its surface near the controls.

During his time in the lab he had dimly been aware of the continuing concussions that rippled beneath his feet as more and more of the Temple succumbed to its weakness. Like a wild beast in its death throes it was not going down easily or quietly, but it was still irrevocable dying. Aya felt no sympathy for it.

When he reached the first obstruction, one of these tremours had shifted the original pile slightly to one side, allowing him to force the capsule through the opening as he clambered along behind. They were almost to the lift when directly above them something exploded and the ceiling crazed, then opened up, before sending the scattered remains tumbling down on them. Aya flicked the speed switch to full, making the capsule lurch forward suddenly as he threw himself over the fragile glass frontage. As they sped out from under the rain of debris he winced as portions struck his backs and legs but he still hung on until they were clear. He managed to slow their rocketing speed before they were smeared across the wall where the passage ended, climbing down and brushing himself over. He took stock of his injuries, a few cuts, and he would have numerous bruises after but other than that he had suffered nothing serious. His lips twitched with an involuntary ironic smile. Why had he felt the need to act so self sacrificing in protecting the capsule, he wondered, looking down at the now dented object. Sena's sleeping face stared back at him. He shook his head at his own foolishness and turned away to view what to do next.

He could feel the aftershocks rumbling through the area, under his feet and his hand resting on the wall. He glanced back up at the ceiling seeing further cracks forming and widening even as he watched. There wasn't much time. When he reached the dumbwaiter he was met with a precariously swaying object. One of the anchoring cables must have broken in the last explosion. It wasn't going to be going anywhere now.

He surveyed his options. There appeared to be no other way out of this area apart from this one. Not surprising in a way if this was such a secret place, even from Epitaph itself. He scrutinized the dumbwaiter, thinking. It might be designed to hold the weight of a person and possibly heavier items as well, after all everything that had been in that lab had to get down here some how. Sure, some of it may have been brought down in far smaller items and assembled here but some of the machinery components could only be found as an entire unit and they would have had to be transported as such. So, yes, the dumbwaiter could hold that sort of weight so the capsule wouldn't be a problem.

The problem was that it was now not functioning as it should, and with at least one broken cable it may not be able to hold the extra weight anyway. Which meant down was the only way. A shower of rubble drew his attention to where the last cave-in had occurred. More of the ceiling was sagging alarmingly and he could feel a fresh blast of heated air hit him as the raging fires from above slowly worked their way downwards. He wondered what the conditions were like up there. He chewed his lip. Even if he did abandon the capsule it most likely would be futile for him to attempt to return to the higher levels. It was more than likely that he would not be able to do so at all. So up was out. Which only left down.

How much further might this shaft go, he wondered, unable to see past the dumb waiter. Only one way to find out. He quickly strode back to the capsule and touched the controls, directing it towards the opening. He aimed it inside, immediately stepping in after and bracing himself as he felt the dumbwaiter swing wildly with the sudden extra weight on its stressed mechanisms until with a groan and snap it fell.

Aya felt his feet almost leave the floor from the sudden drop and grabbed hold of the capsule for additional support, dragging himself on top of it and gripping hard. Once they hit the bottom he would at least have some protection he hoped. They hit soon, and they hit hard. Hard enough to throw Aya from his perch and slide the capsule alarmingly to one side, whilst the walls of the dumbwaiter buckled and one split entirely through the middle.

Aya shook his head to clear the spots that danced before his eyes from when his skull had connected sharply with a wall. He staggered to his feet and took stock of their position. The capsule appeared unharmed which he was relieved to note. Now they had to get out of here. Their best option was to clear the broken panel. He was hoping that this shaft had been built just like any other shaft and would have a wider spacing at the bottom to carry out maintenance on the necessary machinery. If he was wrong, and they were encased by four solid walls outside, they were doomed. He didn't even bother trying to move the panel on his own, instead using the capsule as a battering ram to thrust the broken pieces to one side.

Fortunately his luck held and it was as he had surmised. A wider area surrounded the dilapidated remains of the dumbwaiter where it now lay crumpled, wide enough for him to maneuver the capsule and turn it around to see the best direction to take. He could still hear the slow destruction occurring above, the rattle of small rubble falling down the shaft to tinkle metallically against the lift. It would no doubt soon become an avalanche and Aya had no intention of still being here when it did.

He scouted the area and saw the grating in the floor. It was locked with a simple mechanism that with the help of a length of piping he undid with little difficulty. Dropping his head through the gap he looked around and saw that it led directly to a sewer, just as his nose identified the source also. It would be a tight fit for the capsule he gauged, eyeing the circumference, but it could be done. If he pushed hard enough it would land in the liquid, not the narrow ledge. After all the trouble he had just gone through to keep it intact he didn't want to wreck it now. A loud crash behind him caught him completely off guard and he flattened himself to the ground as a thick cloud of dust rose to surround him. Coughing and blinking his eyes, he turned to see that a large piece of masonry, about the same length at he was tall and twice as broad again, had fallen from above and flattened the remains of the dumbwaiter. It was definitely time to get out of here.

He guided the capsule to the entrance and forced it through, leaving shiny slivers of metal on the sides from the tight squeeze but gratifyingly heard the loud splash below to confirm his aim hadn't been off. He clambered down after it, gloved hands slipping on the slick metallic surface of the old ladder, until his feet touched the ledge. The capsule had begun to drift away slowly and Aya promptly stepped into the liquid, ignoring the way it cloyingly clung to his boots and clothes, all his attention focused on retrieving his prize. The fluid wasn't deep fortunately and he continued to guide the capsule in the direction of the flow.

It seemed as though he had been walking for hours but was probably only closer to about forty-five minutes, when he sensed a change in the air around him. The sickly smell was decreasing; fresh air was coming from somewhere. He hoped that wherever the air was coming from meant that there was a way out for him. His steps quickened and he made certain to always keep the feel of that fresh flowing air on his face.

It would have taken another thirty minutes or so before he felt a change in his surroundings, as the tunnel widened and the air grew stronger. He finally reached the end, coming up against the steel bars that covered the entrance. He had made it to the outside.

He studied the steel bars carefully. They were old, some partially rusted through at the base where they had been standing in liquid all the time. He hated to do so but he had no choice but to use the capsule once more as a ram, carefully picking what appeared to be the weakest spot and sending the capsule crashing into it over and over again. After every impact Aya carefully checked the capsule for damage, especially to the controls and monitors.

Finally he heard the satisfying crack as four of the bars caved outwards at an acute angle, leaving a large enough opening for him to escape with his burden. He clambered out of the deep ditch with some difficulty, using the capsule's hydraulic lifting system to its maximum advantage to maneuver his unwieldy burden up the incline, and upon reaching the top took stock of his location.

Turning he could see behind him the orange glow that lit the sky, signifying the location of the still burning Temple. He was far enough away that it was unlikely that he would run up against anyone so the removal of the capsule was safe for the moment. Facing the other way, he could see the winking of tiny lights in the distance that signified the location of dwellings so he headed for those.

It took some time to stealthily move around the urban area unnoticed in his pursuit of finding the vehicle he needed. He had hidden the capsule on the outskirts of the town but didn't like leaving it for too long unattended. Eventually he found what he was looking for, quickly disarming the alarm and coasting the vehicle away from the drive silently, before hotwiring the van and heading off sedately to avoid arousing any suspicion. He returned to where he had left the container, loaded it into the back and drove away.

He knew he was acting irrationally. This was just pure craziness and could kill them all. Yet knowing that, recognizing that completely, didn't make him cease. He had to see this through to the end now – one way or another.

A quick glance over his shoulder assured him the capsule with its slumbering occupant was still secured. It wasn't something that he could just take anywhere. There was only one place that he could think of that would be safe for it. He had to think about this further, to try and work out what and why he was doing this. Until he could truly decide what to do.

He drove through the night and well into the next day. He knew that by now the owner of the van would have found the vehicle missing and most likely reported it to the police so he was far warier of his surroundings. He tried to stay away from the main roads as much as possible, dredging up from memory the many back ways to his destination.

Finally he reached where he was heading. He ensured that he parked on the far side of town in a run-down and seedy neighbourhood. He didn't waste time in going very far to steal another vehicle for two reasons. Firstly, he knew that if he left the van and its precious cargo for too long it would most likely be stolen itself. Secondly, no-one in this neighbourhood cared if a vehicle was stolen, in truth it most likely already had been at least once before, so there wouldn't be a big commotion when he did so – unless he was so obviously blatant as to do it directly in front of the current 'owner'! Thirdly, he just didn't have time to waste.

He found their next mode of transport and transferred the capsule over, leaving the abandoned van where it was. He felt a little bad in doing so but knew that the previous owner's insurance would cover its loss. Slipping through the traffic he continued across town.

When he pulled up he just sat in the vehicle for a moment looking up at the tall spire. He always had mixed feelings about places of religion. A part of him believed, because how could he not when he sinned almost every day. But a part of him disbelieved for there was no mercy. Because he knew that that there was no redemption for one such as he. He knew this place, had for many years now. The others of Weiss didn't know of it. Oh, no doubt they could find out if they really tried but to the best of his knowledge they hadn't so this was still a place just for himself. He came here as often as he could, trying to do what he could. Trying to atone.

He ensured he parked the vehicle well out of sight from casual visitors, slipping to behind the main building and pulling up close against the small outer door at the side. He knocked softly, certain that there would be someone to answer. Sure enough, he soon heard the rattle of the latch lifting and door swung open to reveal the elderly Sister.

Her face lit with a welcoming smile when she saw him, recognizing him immediately, only to be replaced for a concerned frown a moment later as her gaze wandered down the length of him. Aya wondered what was wrong, then looked down at himself to see. Ah, he had forgotten what a sight he would be – covered in blood, grime and goodness knows only what. No wonder she was looking shocked.

He inclined his head in apology, "I'm sorry, Sister. I didn't mean to startle you in looking like this."

"Tsk," she said, waving the apology aside and then stepping to one side to motion him in. "Come inside and let's get you cleaned up. Are you hurt?"

That was a polite way of her asking if any of the blood was his. He tried to take stock of his own body, cataloguing the many minor wounds, then shook his head in reply. "Not really. Just a few scraps and cuts, nothing more serious."

She began to walk away, "Well, you can come through here to shower and clean up. I'll lay out some clothes and we can clean those for you. You can't go wandering around outside looking like that. You're liable to be arrested." She paused, looking back over her shoulder when she realized that he wasn't following.

"Please," he said quietly, "I have something that I need to bring in first. Do you mind?" He waited for her answer, not knowing if she would refuse or accept. He was asking a lot of her, just turning up suddenly like this unannounced, looking like a war refugee. Perhaps he shouldn't have come here.

"Of course, you can. Bring it in quickly and then you need to take care of yourself." she replied firmly.

Aya felt a small smile turn up the corner of his mouth, feeling himself relax minutely for the first time in what seemed months. He obeyed quickly, sliding the capsule from the back of the vehicle and guiding it inside where the nun stood watching curiously.

She moved to stand next to him as he carefully wiped the pod down, checking that all the monitors and controls were still operating and there were no cracks or leaks from its harsh handling recently. All seemed fine.

He heard her short gasp and raised his head from where he had been kneeling, seeing the unasked query in her eyes, begging for an explanation. He pondered whether to give one or not. He knew that she wouldn't ask outright if he refused to say nothing. She would still keep his secret, and she wouldn't want him to lie. But if he was going to ask this favour of her, asking her to put not just herself but the entire church at risk, she deserved to know the truth. At least as far as the contents of this strange container.

He opened his mouth to speak, to tell her, when she cut him off, "We can talk later. Firstly you need a shower. Come along," and she held out a hand to assist him to his feet. He took it automatically, following as she tugged him along to a room further away, opening the door and guiding him inside. "The shower is there, fresh towels are in the cupboard. You will find some clothing in that chest under the window." She looked his long length up and down as though measuring him, lips pursed together. "I think you will find something to fit you, though you are a little taller than I had realized. I'm sure it will do for now at least. Just leave your clothes outside the door and someone will be along shortly to clean them. If you have any personal items, place them in the drawers and you can collect them when you leave." She opened the door to leave, pausing to smile over her shoulder at where he still stood silently in the centre of the room. "I'll look after your 'package'," she said with a touch of amusement in her voice, "Meet me there when you are finished." And she walked out closing the door softly behind her.

Aya heard her footsteps fade away and automatically went to check that the door had not been locked behind her. It hadn't been. He hadn't really expected that it would have but bad habits are hard to break. This time he locked the door himself to prevent anyone entering uninvited. Quickly he stripped off his clothes, wincing a little as the clothing pulled on half dried scabs and reopening cuts so the blood seeped once more. He looked at it all with great distaste. They were almost ruined, it would be better to just throw them away. Still, he didn't have anything else so he did as he had been instructed. He unlocked the door and cracked it open just a fraction to check that the corridor outside was clear. He didn't want to startle any poor nun coming by with his nakedness. There was no-one there and all was silent so he pushed the door open wider and deposited the laundry by the side.

He quickly made his way to the shower, letting out a deep sigh of pleasure as the hot water cascaded over his aching body. Now he could truly feel every ache and pain, in every portion of his anatomy. The water felt wonderful. He leant his hands on the tiled wall before him, dropping his head to let the water run over it and his back, soaking his hair also. He wished he could just stay like this, letting the water wash everything away. He could see all the dirt and blood swirling around his feet before disappearing down the drain. If only it was as easy to wash away his sins and the blood that others could not see on him.

He sighed softly, raising his head and tilting it back with eyes closed so the water rained down on his face. There was no rain strong enough to wash him clean. He was bound to this mortal coil of death and destruction. His hands were those of a killer and so he would go on until the gods thought fit to remove him from this world.

A further lather of body and hair cleared the last of the grime and he stepped out from the shower, body red with the heat and scrubbing, tingling all over and feeling clean. He took one towel and carefully dabbed at the few still bleeding cuts, fortunately not many. He was sorry to dirty the pristine whiteness of the towel in this way but he didn't have much choice. After he had completely dried himself he rummaged through the chest of clothes the sister had indicated, pulling out an oddment of items that would be able to fit him closely enough. As it was, the trousers were a little too short, rising about his ankles and the shirt a little too baggy but it would do for now.

On bare feet, as his boots had been in just as bad a condition as the rest of his clothing and been delegated for cleaning earlier, he padded back to the entry he had first come in. It had at one time obviously been the outer kitchen, possibly for servants. It still served this use and he found the Sister sitting quietly in a chair with a steaming pot on the table before her, and a simmering kettle on the stovetop sent a gentle whistling sound into the air.

She looked up as he entered though he hadn't thought he had made any noise and smiled a greeting. He saw her eyes settle on the shortness on his pants and her lips twitch a little.

"They're all I could find," he said a little defensively, feeling foolish.

Her lips twitched again, this time forming a full smile and she waved him to a chair. "That is fine. Your clothes will be returned to you later. Don't worry. Would you like some tea?"

He nodded, "Yes, please."

He watched her pour, reaching out to accept the proffered cup, watching her fill her own and raise it to her lips. Still she had asked nothing of him, not pressed him for answers or questions. He felt himself relax further and raised his own cup, closing his eyes to savour the full taste of the tea as it rolled over his tongue and enjoy the warmth as it ran down his throat, seeming to permeate out into every portion of his body. Ah, that felt so good.

They sat like that, in silence, through the first cup and onto a second, neither speaking. It didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable. It was relaxing and soothing and calm, just two people drinking tea, as the light of the day began to wane.

Aya finally set his empty cup down with a small clink of china. The Sister raised her eyes to meet his, her blue ones calm and steady, as she too carefully set her cup down on the table.

"I wish to ask for your help," he began quietly, he voice little more than a whisper yet she obviously could hear him well. "But before you accept you need to know what you will be looking after."

He began to explain, briefly about the Temple and the clone experiments. He edited great portions of events from the story, there was no need for her to know about that and it would serve no purpose in telling her. And he certainly didn't tell her anything more about his or Weiss's role in all of it. But he did tell her the disastrous results of the cloning experiments, the deformed and twisted creatures that were being created and released and the destruction that they could cause. She listened quietly through it all, not interrupting him.

He glanced across to where the capsule lay quietly, looking more like a coffin here in this place than ever before. Why had he brought it here? It would have been better if he had just pushed that button and finished this, once and for all.

The Sister followed his look and then turned her attention back to him. "So they are monsters?" she queried softly.

Aya shrugged, "The ones that we had met, yes. They resembled people but all they knew about, all the seemed capable of, was to deal out death and destruction. They had no concept of morality or valuing life."

"Hmm," she murmured, tilting her head to one side in contemplation. "But you know this one."

Aya started a little at her statement. How did she know? Was he that obvious?

She smiled at his surprise, "The way you look at that boy is not the way you would look at a monster, or an enemy. It is the way you would look at a friend – or family." Her smile warmed, "I see that look often here at the orphanage," she continued, "between the children as they form bonds with each other. They have no-one else you see."

Aya swallowed against the lump forming in his throat. Was that why he had saved Sena? Was that why he had brought the capsule here? Surely not.

He looked across to the Sister who still watched him quietly. "Yes, I know him. Or at least I knew the person this clone seems to have been created from. But make no mistake, that doesn't mean that what is in there," and he pointed without looking at the still casket, "is the same as that person."

"I understand," she said, nodding her head. "So what is it you would like me to do?"

Aya clasped his hands together, leaning forward onto his knees. "Could you keep it here for me? Until I determine what I need to do?"

"You want us to just 'store' it for you?" she queried.

"Yes, that's all."

"Do we need to do anything?"

Aya stood, motioning her to join him as he walked to the side of the casket. "I will come by and check on it, but there is something you need to know." He pointed at the flashing lights on the side. "That is the power indicator. If that goes out then the battery has died and it will need to be placed on an external power source. That can't be done here. It is unlikely the battery will shut down, but possible. I'll come by every couple of weeks to check it." He looked over at the Sister, "This one," and he moved to the next panel with a large square red button. "If anything happens, or if I don't come back, you must press this."

"What does it do?" the nun asked.

"It will destroy the creature." Aya said flatly. He saw the Sister's eyes widen a little at his statement and continued, "You must do it. If I do not come back it means I won't be. There is no point keeping this here and putting you all in unnecessary jeopardy. I can't afford for this to fall into the wrong hands. It is better for it to be completely destroyed."

The Sister pressed her lips together and nodded reluctantly. "What is this for?" she asked, pointing at the only other flashing light.

Aya glanced back down, "That is indicating that there is information to download."

"Download?" the Sister queried with curiousity.

"The creatures are implanted with memories, a 'life' if you like. They come out fully grown to the stage that has been set, mostly teenagers. Probably because it is thought that they might be easier to control than if they were full adults. But they are still just constructs with no memories of their own as they haven't lived before. The only way for them to be able to think and exist is to give them false data of life. That is what that is for. Before these creatures are released they are provided with this information to start their new 'life'."

"I see," the Sister said in response.

"Now that you know what the facts are, and the potential dangers, will you do this for me?" he asked her.

She smiled at him, "Of course we will. You can be assured it will be kept safe here."

Aya felt a wave of relief, "Thank you," he said earnestly.

"Such a beautiful child," the Sister said, gazing down at Sena's face.

Aya turned to face the Sister, frowning. "Don't be fooled by appearances," he cautioned. "These are creations of man's madness, nothing more. We have no idea just what is lying in this container. Don't let your guard down. If anything seems like it is going wrong, then press that," pointing back at the self destruct button he had first indicated to her. "Don't wait, just do it."

"If you insist," she agreed.

Just then another nun joined them, laying Aya's clean clothing on the far end of the table and then quietly leaving.

"I will let you get changed," the Sister said as he stood and gathered his clothing up. He returned to the room he had been previously, stripping and drawing on his own clothing like he was donning a suit of armour. For that is what it felt like, these clothes were as much a part of him as his own body. He was amazed at not only how clean they were, with only a few stains that were obviously too difficult to remove, but also at the neat stitches that had closed the numerous tears and rents in the fabric. The sisters had performed miracles in that short time.

Once he was reclothed he returned to where the Sister was waiting patiently for him. She smiled at his approach. "Those clothes suit you well," she said appreciatively. He unaccountably blushed at the compliment. It seemed so odd coming from a lady of a holy order. She laughed lightly at his expression. "I may be an old lady and also a nun," she said, "but I can still appreciate the beauty of God's work, in whatever form it may take. Including beautiful young men." That didn't remove the flush from his cheeks and he felt that she may have been quietly making fun of him.

He moved over the capsule, checking it one last time, and satisfied, straightened up, facing the Sister. "I'll leave now," he said, "but I will be back every couple of weeks to check on things. Thank you for your help." He made his way to the door leading to the outside, the Sister following him. As he opened the van's door he turned to her and spoke once more. "Remember, if you don't see me after two weeks, or hear from me in that time, it means I won't be returning, and you must destroy it."

"Then I will pray for your safe return each time," she replied softly, raising a hand in benediction.

He lowered his head slightly, accepting her blessing even though he felt deep in his heart that it would be of no use but he was still grateful for her gesture. "Goodbye, Sister, and thank you."

"Walk with God, my son," she replied stepping back as he started the engine and drove off.

So, he thought to himself as he drove, heading back to the seedier side of town, it was done. He still didn't know if he had done the right thing here, he was of two minds about it. But somewhere deep inside he felt he had to do this, he couldn't have let Sena die there in that place – not for a second time. But as for the future, well, that was a very different story. If he did release the simulacrum that resided silently in that capsule what would he be releasing? If it wasn't Sena, just what would it be? He knew that he was probably deluding himself. He had no idea if it would really be Sena that would arise from that make-shift coffin, but he just couldn't destroy it out of hand. Not without knowing for certain. Not after holding Sena's dying body in his arms and hearing the apology the boy had given him. His apology for acting as a human, and as a son. Because of that, he had to allow the clone to live. At least for now.

Either way, if he was wrong it would be up to him to right that wrong, and only he. It would be by his own hands that the replica of Sena would die even if it cost him own life.

That much he owed Sena, himself, and the world.


End file.
